Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Jack comes through from the kitchen as I’m about to tell Lina to leave. ‘What do you want?’ he asks her, his voice seething with anger.
Lina’s eyes travel accusingly over him. ‘To know where you were when Evie’s friend died would be interesting,’ she replies with a smirk.
‘Get the fuck out!’ Jack yells.
‘Jack, don’t!’ I spin around as he takes a step towards her. ‘We have to collect Evie.’
Jack looks past me to Lina, his eyes blazing with fury. ‘Get out,’ he grates, his chest heaving.
I turn back to her. ‘Go,’ I urge her. Seeing the glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she turns to the door, my own anger intensifies. At first I was convinced she was struggling with dementia, but now I’m doubting it. She seems to know exactly what she’s doing. She’s goading him into reacting.
‘Tell my granddaughter she knows where I am,’ she says as she leaves.
Fuming inside, I turn back to find Jack grabbing up his car keys. ‘Oh no you don’t.’ I pick my own up. ‘You’re in no state to drive. We’ll take my car.’
He hesitates for a second, then nods and heads past me out onto the drive.
I hurry to catch him up as he strides to the car. I can feel Lina’s eyes on me as I climb in. ‘Seat belt,’ I instruct Jack, quashing a surge of raw emotion as I recall asking Mark to fasten his. Concentrate, I will myself, starting the car and pulling off the drive, away from prying eyes.
Jack is silent for a long moment, then, ‘Sorry,’ he says, blowing out a breath. ‘About my reaction back there. The woman winds me up.’
‘Intentionally.’ I glance at him. He’s tense, his forefingers pressed against his temples.
I’m not surprised. ‘You need to ignore her, Jack. At least for the moment, for Evie’s sake.
’ I don’t say any more. Having decided to seek alternative accommodation for Lina, I now have no idea what to do.
With Imogen gone from Evie’s life, how can I send Lina away too?
‘What was Evie doing at Imogen’s house?’ he asks, clearly as confused as I am. ‘Why would she have just taken off like that?’
Because Lina had put suggestions into her head about him and Imogen?
I wonder, but I think better of voicing my thoughts.
‘You’ll need to talk to her,’ I say. ‘But please be careful,’ I add quickly.
‘However badly they’d fallen out, she and Imogen were close.
She will be devastated, grieving and stuffed full of guilt after their argument.
The last thing she needs right now is for you to bombard her with questions. ’
‘I know,’ he concedes shakily. ‘Thanks for being there for her.’ He glances at me. ‘I probably wouldn’t have handled it well.’
I give him a brief smile. ‘Where else would I be?’
A minute later, I slow as I turn into Imogen’s road, my mind hurtling back to the night I’d delivered her here after Evie’s violent attack on her. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I would never see her again. How did this happen?
Jack is out of the car, heading for the front door.
I’m right behind him as the door swings open and Evie emerges.
My eyes pivot to the lounge window as if drawn to it.
Imogen’s mother stands there. She’s staring in our direction.
Does she see us? I wonder. See anything other than snapshots of her child’s life playing excruciatingly through her mind.
Her grief will be all-consuming, indescribable unless you’ve experienced it.
I want to go to her, reach out to her, but right now, I imagine I will be the last person she wants to see.
The woman whose daughter – albeit Evie is not my flesh and blood – is still alive.
My gaze goes back to Evie, who’s stopped on the drive as if frozen. She stares at Jack for a moment. Then, ‘Dad,’ she cries, and races towards him.
Jack catches her as she launches herself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and squeezing her close. ‘Shh,’ he murmurs, stroking her hair softly as she sobs into his shoulder. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.’
‘It’s not!’ Evie pulls away. ‘It’s not,’ she repeats, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Immy’s dead. She’s not here any more, she never will be. How did that happen?’ she asks him, her face a kaleidoscope of emotion, from confusion through to accusation.
My heart falters as I watch Jack draw her back to him. ‘I don’t know, Evie,’ he says gutturally.
But why is she asking him? Trepidation twists tightly inside me. Surely she couldn’t still be thinking that Jack and Imogen… No, it’s incomprehensible.